


If you need help you can always ask

by PushPin



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Attempted Assault, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, he'll be okay i promise, if you don't want your old man creeper senses pinged then maybe skip this one, non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-26
Updated: 2016-11-30
Packaged: 2018-09-02 10:01:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8663095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PushPin/pseuds/PushPin
Summary: With his larger than life attitude it was easy to forget that Yuri Plisetsky was only 15 years old, so when he refuses to ask for help how is anyone supposed to know when he actually needs it?  In comes Katsuki Yuuri who's surprisingly perceptive when it comes to his little buddy.Warning are definitely more worrisome than strictly necessary, but I didn't want anyone to get a nasty surprise after clicking :)  There's no sexual acts actually occurring in this fic!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I binge watched all 8 episodes during the downtime on Thanksgiving and now I'm in figure skating hell, but it's great down here so here we go!
> 
> I have most of this written already, so I'll just keep posting the short kind of chapters once a day until it's all done :) Thanks for reading!
> 
>  
> 
> Warnings: okay so it's labeled 'non-con' and 'attempted assault' but without spoiling anything I just want to note that it's only attempted and the actual acts never happen and are not described in great detail. So if you're sensitive to extreme creepers and suggestively terrible scenes give this one a pass! Definitely no rape. It's really not as bad as I'm making it out to be I just don't want anyone to go in unawares ^^

With all the excitement, anxiety, and anticipation of skate competitions it was easy to forget just how much downtime there was during the actual event. For Yuri Plisetsky the actual amount of time that he ended on the ice was never enough. It started with early mornings, warmups, costumes, socializing with other skaters, all before he even got on the ice. Even after he finally performed he still had to wait around after, indulge interviewers, listen to a usually lengthy critique of his performance, and maybe at some point in the night get to leave.

Being fifteen gave him fewer options for escape, and he was usually at the mercy of his coach. At the behest of his coach he also had to indulge the whims of his current sponsors which usually involved more press time than seemed strictly necessary. It was all a very annoying game to play just so he could skate.

Yuri heard that his old friend/nemesis Katsuki Yuuri was skating at the event as well, but in a completely different bracket so they hadn’t yet crossed paths. He was sure the per usual Victor and Yuuri were inseparable, it was annoying to say the least. It left him little opportunity to try and convince Victor that he had picked the wrong student.

“Yuri my boy! Your set was very impressive today, glad to see all the time training is worth it!”

Yuri stopped his meandering, the underground hallways were usually empty during a competition. It took him a second to recognize the man calling him, but the American accent clued him in. He couldn’t remember the name but it was one of his bigger sponsors, they had met a few times during practice when he’d had to pretend play nice for the man with a fat wallet.

“Where’s your coach? I thought he’d be with you,” the man said, glancing around the dark hallway as though he would find anyone.

“He’s not my keeper,” Yuri grumbled, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Probably still talking to reporters.”

“Why not come up to my box and watch the rest of the competition, he’ll be sure to find you there,” the man suggested, putting a hand on Yuri’s back and leading him towards the stairwell. “Maybe we can chat a bit about your funding, after your perfect performance tonight I’d say you’re up for a bit more pampering?”

“Sure, whatever.” Shrugging off the hand Yuri followed him up and up through the stadium, watching as the walls grew cleaner and more well kept the higher they went. When they reached the suite level there were a few skaters and rich looking fans milling around, likely wandering from a party in one box to another. 

He wasn’t above admitting that the lure of more funding was always tempting. Life wasn’t always easy, but money sure helped with everything. Most of his checks got sent home, but he knew they weren’t always enough, and off season without any prize money coming in money was tight with his family and he had to rely on sponsors for funding.

The box was quiet and empty when he was led inside, dim lighting compared to the bright rink visible through the big windows. Some noise could be heard through the wall, presumably of a party in the next room over, but it was quiet enough in the booth.

He went and sat by the glass, someone he didn’t recognize was currently skating and he internally critiqued their poor form while wondering if Yuuri had already gone. The man came and sat next to him on the soft sofa, putting an arm up on the back and behind Yuri’s head but not close enough to be touching. Yuri shuffled away an inch and pulled out his phone to check social media.

“Listen, I was hoping we could talk a bit about your funding,” the man started, not watching the ice outside the window at all. It made Yuri’s skin crawl but he stayed in place. “You did such a good job tonight, just beautiful on the ice.”

Yuri kept his eyes on his phone. Victor had posted a selfie on Instagram of him squeezing Yuuri against his side with the caption ‘celebrating in suite 19 <3’. He had missed Yuuri’s performance already.

“I think we could work something out for some extra funding during the off season, if you could do something for me.”

Yuri froze when fingers tugged on his hair tie, letting his hair down. He didn’t look up, feeling cold that had nothing to do with the ice rink.

“You’re so beautiful.”

Yuri felt the man shift in his seat next to him and heard a zipper. He wondered briefly why his usual reaction of anger had abandoned him in this moment, he didn’t know what to feel and just stayed frozen in place. Where was his coach when he needed him?

“Give me your hand.”

He felt a clammy hand close over his wrist and all at once felt small and young and alone. The fingers around his wrist were firm and when he tried to pull him arm away he couldn’t.

“Work with me here and I’ll give you what you want, just-“

The door behind them swung open and flooded the room with light. The man released Yuri’s hand immediately and cursed, fumbling with his pants.

“Oh, I’m in the wrong-“ It was Yuuri, so polite with his freshly washed wet hair and red face, walking into the wrong booth. He stopped short when his eyes locked with Yuri’s, looking confused while silence dragged on.

“This is a private booth, get out!” the man next to Yuri bellowed, red in the face but not making eye contact.

“Er, sorry,” Yuuri put his hands up in an apologetic gesture with a bland smile. “I think your coach is looking for you Yurio.”

Before anything else could be said Yuri vaulted over the back of the sofa and pushed past Yuuri through the door and into the hall. He felt like he could finally breathe out in the bright hallway.

“Yurio!” Yuuri called from behind him but Yuri was already rushing down the hall. “Wait up!”

“I’m going to find Yakov,” he said firmly, slamming the door to the stairwell open with more force than was strictly necessary. Yuuri caught up with him and they brushed shoulders through the doorway.

“Wait, he’s not looking for you I made that up,” Yuuri said and they both stopped halfway down the stairs. “You just looked like you needed a reason to get out of there.”

Yuri felt his face heat up; there was that anger he needed so much a few minutes ago.

“Fuck off I don’t need your help,” Yuri grumbled and jumped down the remaining few stairs in one go, but hesitated just before the door. “Don’t tell anyone or I’ll make you regret it.”

He slammed the door open and practically ran out, leaving Yuuri alone in the stairwell.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's a short chapter, sorry, but tomorrow's is longer(and better!!)! Thanks everyone for the kudos and comments, every one means a lot to me ^^

It had been two weeks since the last competition and Yuri was deeply embroiled in practice. He had done his best to forget all about those five minutes alone with his sponsor at the last competition, but it was made more difficult by the fact that his sponsor had insisted on staying in Russia to watch his progress. That meant that every once in a while he would look over the ice to see him standing next to Yakov, just watching.

If the unwanted presence had effected his practice maybe someone would have asked him his thoughts on the matter, but he was skating as well as ever so nothing seemed wrong. Still he did his best not to be caught alone at any given time.

He was practicing his routine, though he already knew it well he was trying to fit an extra jump in there. His landing was perfect and he turned to Yakov only to see a different but familiar face leaning against the partition: Katsuki Yuuri. Yuuri smiled and waved.

“What do you think you’re doing here?” Yuri grumbled on his way over and looked to Yakov with questions.

“Victor had some business to take care of this week here, so he told me I should come along for the trip,” Yuuri explained, glancing up nervously at Yakov who was exuding stern indifference. “I thought I might come by and practice some while he’s busy.”

“Whatever, do what you want,” Yuri sniffed and turned, skating back out on the ice. “Just don’t get in my way.”

He would never admit it, but some part of him felt nostalgic sharing the ice with Yuuri again. The time he had spent in Hasetsu had been fun, and his memories were all good of staying at Yuuri’s family Inn and eating the food his parents cooked. That daily routine of meeting at the small town rink and working hard together had stuck in his memory.

He focused on his performance instead, doing his best to ignore Yuuri on the other half of the rink. It was too easy to lose track of time on the ice, focusing so much on what he was doing that everything else faded away. His skates left the ground and for a second he lost focus, suddenly realizing the fatigue he felt through his whole body, and botched the landing.

The ice was rough and hard as it always was when he hit, his bare palm scraping along it before he came to stop with a small grunt. He rolled over and looked up, finding that Yuuri was slowly skating towards him, looking a little concerned.

He hoisted himself back to his feet before Yuuri could reach him, brushing the quickly melting ice chips from his stinging arm.

“Are you alright?” Yuuri asked, stopping a few feet away but his gaze faltered and brows furrowed, looking further away.

Yuri followed his gaze, finding his least favorite sponsor standing next to Yakov.

“Fine,” Yuri answered after a long pause, tearing his eyes away and inspecting his palm. No blood, but the skin was torn up on the surface.

“That’s enough for today,” Yakov called and Yuri obediently headed for the exit without looking back, leaving Yuuri alone on the ice.


	3. Chapter 3

Yuri was tired.  He had been practicing harder than was strictly necessary for the last few days, but of course Yakov was just glad to see him applying himself.  He hadn’t seen Yuuri or Victor in a few days, but based on Victor’s Instagram they were keeping busy seeing local sights.

 

It was dark out already, but he stayed on the ice anyways.  Even Yakov looked tired and ready to leave, but he stayed and watched in silence.  There was always something more he could be practicing, it kept his mind off his worries.

 

After a near miss on a bad landing he stopped to catch his breath and looked over to Yakov, but he wasn’t there.  Instead it was the last person he wanted to see. His sponsor sitting with his hands folded over his lap, watching.  A quick sweep of the stands showed no one else; they were alone.

 

“It’s good to see you practicing so hard Yuri!” The man stood and called. “Yakov stepped out but he told me to watch you while he was gone.”

 

“Did he say when he’d be back?” Yuri suddenly felt out of breath again. “Give me my phone.”

 

“He didn’t say, but he’s been gone for a while already,” the man said nonchalantly. “He probably went home, he looked tired.”

 

The man took Yuri’s phone off the bench and they met at the edge of the rink.  Yuri reached for his phone but it was pulled out of reach just before he could touch it.  The man’s hand came up under his to hold him in place before placing his phone carefully in Yuri’s hand.  Yuri pulled his phone back violently, skating backward and away with a frown.  His hand felt dirty now.

 

“I wanted to offer you the chance to come visit the USA, I own a skating rink there you could use any time you wanted to visit.”

 

Yuri hardly heard him, and kept idly skating while checking his phone, keeping far away from the edges of the rink.

 

“You could stay as long as you wanted.”

 

He unlocked his phone and opened Instagram, a reflexive habit.  The first thing that loaded was a photo of Yuuri; he was leaning too far back to take the selfie while his glasses slipped down off his nose.  You couldn’t even see much of whatever Russian monument he was trying to get in the background.

 

“Why don’t you come off the ice and warm up a bit?”

 

He clicked on Yuuri’s profile and opened a private message.  It was empty, he’d never messaged Yuuri privately before.

 

**_Will you come get me at the ice rink?_ **

He clicked send before he had any more time to think about what he was doing.

 

“I have a few more things I need to work on before I can stop,” Yuri lied, skating to the edge of the rink and balancing his phone there.  It was far enough away from the man that he had plenty of time to skate away before he could be touched again.

 

He felt tired all the way to his bones, aching and his feet stinging from his skates, but he just had to hold off until someone else showed up.  He guessed if it came down to it he had his skates as a weapon, but wasn’t confident that he wouldn’t just freeze up like last time.

 

So he skated.

 

It felt like forever, but the rink was silent and dark, too similar to the suite they’d been in last time.  He knew he had checked the clock when he messaged Yuuri, but he couldn’t remember what time it had said.  There were no windows, and even if there were it was already dark out.  No way to tell the passage of time.

 

“Yurio!”

 

He stopped and his knees complained.  Yuuri was standing at the edge of the rink, just next to the entrance, smiling.  He didn’t look upset at all.

 

“Did you see Yakov on the way in?” Yuri asked, quickly making his way to the exit of the ice.

 

“Er, no?” Yuuri looked around, his eyes landing on the only other person in the place, clearly noting who it was.

 

His sponsor’s face was visibly red even from a distance.  Clearly he remembered Yuuri as well.

 

“Let’s go then,” Yuri said, picking up his phone, stepping off the ice, and kicking off his skates with all speed.  He didn’t even bother putting his shoes on first before heading for the locker room.  He dropped his skates into his bag, grabbed it in one hand and Yuuri’s sleeve in the other, and dragged them both out the door.

 

“Is everything okay?” Yuuri asked quietly, not taking his eyes off the older man until they were out of view.

 

“Fine,” Yuri spat, entering the locker room and locking the door behind them.  He took a deep breath and dropped his bag.

 

Yuuri didn’t say anything, just stood next to the door and watched.

 

“You wanted me to come, right?” he asked.

 

“…Thanks for coming,” Yuri sighed, dragging his bag over to the bench and sitting.  Somehow sitting made his legs hurt even worse.

 

“Who is that guy out there?”

 

“Nobody, quit asking me so many questions,” Yuri grumbled, peeling off his socks to survey the damage.  He would’ve had blisters, had they not all already broken and gone bloody. “Shit.”

 

“Where’s the first aid box?” Yuuri asked. “Sorry, that was a question wasn’t it.”

 

Yuri looked up in time to see a little smile that his glare did nothing to dispel.  He just pointed to the correct cabinet and Yuuri went to fetch the box.  Without asking Yuuri knelt on the ground just in front of him with the first aid box on the floor next to him and patted his thigh in invitation.

 

“Fuck off,” Yuri said, crossing his arms and not moving.

 

“You look really terrible,” Yuuri said; it was so shocking coming out of his mouth that Yuri forgot to fight back when his foot was picked up.

 

Yuri fumed and complained, but let it happen anyways.  The only thing he wanted less than Yuuri tending to his feet was having to bend down and do it himself.  It didn’t take too long until his feet and ankles were tightly wrapped and he managed to cram his feet into sneakers.

 

“Let’s get out of here,” Yuuri said, glancing at the locked door.

 

When they left there were no signs anyone else was left in the building, they turned off the lights on their way out and the door to the building locked behind them.  He got into a taxi and watched Yuuri wave him off, waiting for a taxi of his own.  He took out his phone and unlocked it, their Instagram chat was still open and Yuuri had responded nearly an hour earlier.

 

**_I’m nearby, I’ll be right there!!_ **


	4. Chapter 4

**_How are your feet today?_ _(ó_ _﹏ò_ _｡)_**

Yuri spent a long time staring at the instagram message from Yuuri once he was awake.  Instead of responding he decided to just post a public photo of his unwrapped feet; it was close enough to responding without actually having to engage in a private conversation.  They didn’t look quite as bad as they had the night before, but he had a pretty high threshold for messed up feet.

 

The first comment came almost immediately:

 

 **katsuski.yuuri** : o(TヘTo)

 

Yakov came to pick him up for practice way earlier than he would have liked, and he got scolded the entire ride to the rink for letting his feet get in that condition.  His punishment was to be no ice skates that day, only strength training drills and sitting around until it was time to leave for the day.

 

“Where did you go last night anyway?” Yuri asked once they were pulling up to park.

 

“I went home, it was late, your sponsor offered to keep an eye on you while I was gone,” Yakov answered gruffly. “He’s a generous man.”

 

“Sure,” Yuri sneered.

 

“He said he was so impressed with your work last night that he’s pledged several thousand more and new equipment.  I trust you can be nicer to him now?” Yakov said, shutting off the car. “He’s paid you more than double any of your other sponsors.”

 

“Did you ever stop to ask if I even wanted his stupid money?” Yuri complained, but he could hear how petulant he sounded.

 

“I don’t care whether or not you want it, you need it,” Yakov got out of the car and Yuri followed suit. “You will be nice to this man or you will be very sorry.”

 

There were a few other skaters practicing on the ice, and of course the first person Yuri saw sitting in the stands was his number one fan and sponsor.

 

“Go sit with him, be nice,” Yakov gave him a push on the shoulder that made it clear he didn’t get a choice in this matter.

 

Yuri put it off as long as he reasonably could, chatting with other skaters and checking his phone, but the longer he stayed away the more dire the look Yakov was shooting him became.  It was only putting off the inevitable but he walked as slowly as he could to the row of seats.

 

The man didn’t say anything when he sat with an empty seat between them, but didn’t seem to have any problem getting up and moving so they were sitting side to side.  Yuri stayed glued to his phone screen, pretending he wasn’t there.

 

“Who was your friend last night Yuri?” the man asked nonchalantly.

 

“He skates too,” Yuri answered shortly.

 

“Have you had lunch yet?  We could go get something, I’m sure Yakov wouldn’t mind.”

 

“Not hungry,” he muttered.

 

“Did he tell you about our arrangement?”

 

Yuri froze, and tried not to picture the worst.  Surely Yakov wouldn’t sell him that way just for some sponsor.  He could feel a hand brushing through his hair.

 

“I’m sure we could find somewhere private to talk about it some more.”

 

Yuri was on his feet before he knew what he was doing.

 

“Fuck off old man and go die in a ditch I’d rather be dead than touch you.” Yuri hissed before turning and rushing off.  Nobody had turned or even looked his way so at least no one had heard that but the two of them.

 

He went for the locker rooms but they were locked, so he went looking for the next best defensible room.  He was nearly to the front lobby when he realized he was being followed.  He looked back to find his sponsor, red faced and storming straight for him.  He didn’t have a chance to react before he was grabbed by his arm and pulled through a joining hallway and into a service door.

 

He heard the click of the closet door being locked once they were inside and he drew a breath to shout but a hand covered his mouth before he had the chance.  His phone now seemed to be missing and he couldn’t for the life of him remember at one point he had lost it.  The closet they were in was small and mostly empty except for a few brooms.

 

There was no room to kick and struggle, it was dark and stuffy and he felt about an inch tall.  He could hear the man above him grumbling something about what he did and didn’t deserve but it was unintelligible.  He sank his teeth into whatever fleshy bit seemed closest and heard a satisfying shout that was unfortunately followed up by a vicious grip in his hair, forcing him to let go.

 

The door behind them rattled and they both froze in place.  The proceeding seconds stretched on when nothing happened until it finally dawned on Yuri this was his chance.

 

“Open the d-“ he tried shouting but was cut off with a hand over his mouth again.  He managed to get a finger between his teeth this time and was this time rewarded with what felt like a backhand the landed just next to his left eye, stunning him.  In his stunned state the next few seconds were a little indistinct, but before he realized it the door was open and he was alone sitting in the back of the closet.

 

The next thing he knew Yuuri was kneeling in front of him just inside the closet door, a hand offered out towards him.  He looked worried, and Yuri wasn’t at all sure how he himself looked in comparison.

 

When Yuri didn’t move Victor leaned around the doorframe, eyes wide.

 

“Yurio?” Yuuri asked for what he was realizing was the third time, still kneeling in place in front of him.

 

“He’s run off,” Victor offered, turning and disappearing from view outside the door. “Damn.”

 

“I found your phone,” Yuuri said, reaching into one of his pockets and offering it with a strained smile.

 

Yuri snatched it from his hands, pulling his knees close and holding his phone close like it was precious.  He wasn’t sure where all his words had suddenly gone.

 

“I think I have a tissue,” Yuuri muttered mostly to himself and began searching his pockets, but it made Yuri suddenly very aware that his cheeks were wet.  He didn’t remember bursting into tears, but it did explain why everything was a bit blurry.

 

“Help me up,” Yuri said finally and reached forward, using Yuuri’s shoulders to push himself up without waiting for his hand.  He slipped out of the closet and turned to close the door before realizing it was broken.  One of the hinges was very clearly broken and the door frame was cracked around the handle.

 

Yuri hastily wiped his whole face off on his sleeves, finding that the whole left side was a bit tender.

 

“Where’d Victor go?” Yuri asked, looking around the hall but no one was there.

 

“I think he went to go find Yakov.”

 

Yuri whirled around to face him, glaring daggers even though Yuuri seemed immune.

 

“Why didn’t you call me for help sooner?” Yuuri asked, sounding a little hurt.

 

“I had it under control.”

 

Yuuri frowned.  Before he could say anything else Victor returned with a security guard.

 

“Yakov isn’t here, I called him but he’s not picking up,” Victor sighed with a shrug.  “We’ll just have to wait until he comes back I guess.”

 

“I wanna leave,” Yuri piped up. “Where are you staying?  I’ll go there.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next/final chapter is all fluff ^^


	5. Chapter 5

Victor’s apartment was small and smelled like dog even though Makkachin was staying in Hasetsu. Victor had stayed behind at the rink to sort out a few things with security and wait for Yakov to come back. Yuuri had taken a cab with Yuri and they waited together at the apartment.

They sat together in mostly silence, watching some Japanese show on Yuuri’s phone that didn’t seem very interesting. Yuri had a bag of ice against his face but it was still throbbing, probably a bruise at least.

“What’s it like with Victor?” Yuri blurted out. It hadn’t been beyond his notice when he’d entered the apartment that there was clearly only one bed in the bedroom.

“What’s what like with Victor?” Yuuri asked, dense as a rock.

“You know, sex.”

Yuuri’s phone slipped out of his hands and hit the floor, but he continued to stare where it had once been with red visibly rising in his face.

“Er, we don’t- I’ve never-“ Yuuri stuttered, too easily flustered.

“Never? With anyone?” Yuri deadpanned. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“W-what’s that supposed to mean?” Yuuri pouted, pushing his glasses up. 

Yuri just turned and looked him up and down before meeting his eyes, a wordless critique.

“That’s mean,” Yuuri shook his head, red from his shoulders to the tips of his ears.

“So aren’t you going to be embarrassed when your first time is with Victor Nikiforov and you have no idea what you’re doing?” Yuri pulled his legs up onto the couch and crossed them. “When he’s him and you’re… you?”

“That’s terrible, why are you saying this?” Yuuri looked genuinely upset. “Besides, who says we’re going to do it?”

Yuri shrugged and they sat in silence.

“Do you just want me to be upset because you’re upset, is that why you’re saying this?” Yuuri finally said, picking his phone up off the floor. “Because I am upset. I’m upset about what happened to you.”

Yuri stiffened.

“You know if you need help you can always ask, right?” Yuuri continued, wiping the screen of his phone with his palm.

“…You already helped,” Yuri said quietly. “Thanks for being there.”

\---

It was late when Victor finally came home with dinner and Yakov. Yakov was as grave and gruff as ever, but to Yuri’s surprise he wasn’t there to give a lecture. It was an apology, and frankly it made Yuri uncomfortable to receive given its sincere but grumpy delivery. Victor seemed to be the only one pleased by the time the event was over.

Yuri suggested he stay with Victor and Yuuri for the night without any further explanation, and was met without any resistance to the idea. They ate dinner, acted like everything was fine, set up the fold out sofa for Yuri to sleep on, and retired after what felt like a long day.

It was warm in the apartment, but it felt lonely to Yuri who couldn’t quite manage to fall asleep. His phone told him it was almost 2am when he got out of bed. The door to Victor’s bedroom was open and he tiptoed over to peek inside.

It had a huge bed inside, but the two forms on the bed were close together on one side. Yuuri was lying on his side facing the door, right on the edge of the bed like someone who had squirmed to try and take up as little space as possible. Victor on the other hand had an arm and a leg over him, looking like a small kid trying to grapple a tree. Clearly Victor’s sense of personal space was different from Yuuri’s.

Yuri touched the door and it swung open; neither form in the bed moved. He stepped inside but was hit with indecision on what to do, so he sat on the floor beside the bed and watched for a few minutes. He wanted to wake them up, or join them, or something, but had to work up to it first.

From the floor he was on level with Yuuri’s face. Yuuri was cute when he was asleep. His face looked round and soft, and he was so much more relaxed than he was when he was awake.

“Yuuri,” he whispered into the dark room but there was no response so he tried again louder. “Yuuri.”

Yuuri’s eyelashes fluttered and he took a deep breath, letting it out slowly before he blinked his eyes open.

“Yurio?” he muttered back quietly, voice thick with sleep. He didn’t seem surprised by anything happening.

“That doesn’t look very comfortable,” Yuri commented, weaving a thin pretense. “You should come share my bed instead.”

It took Yuuri a few long seconds to respond, blinking himself awake before shifting to sit up, knocking Victor’s arm off. He frowned down at the other occupant of the bed who didn’t appear to be woken in the slightest by the movement.

“Okay,” Yuuri finally said, pushing Victor off and dropping the blanket over him before standing. He had a sponsorship shirt on and a pair of sleep pants that looked at least three sizes too big on him.

They shuffled out of the bedroom together and Yuuri dropped onto the foldout bed without protest, looking instantly boneless and mostly asleep. Yuri carefully slipped into the bed too, keeping as far to the side as he could while facing Yuuri. Yuuri sighed, adjusting his pillow and resting his hand on the empty space between them.

“Bad fall?” Yuri asked quietly, studying the bruised knuckles on Yuuri’s hand.

“Hm?”

“Your hand.”

Yuuri opened his eyes, looking like he had trouble focusing on his own hand.

“Oh,” he sighed. “You should see the other guy.”

“I should- what?” Yuri suddenly understood. Those precious few seconds when he had been stunned in the closet he had apparently missed a lot. “Did you punch that guy?”

Yuuri was smiling a little sheepishly.

“Good job,” Yuri gaped and they both ended up laughing as quietly as they could.

“I’ve never hit someone before, it hurt a lot.” Yuuri shook his hand out before gingerly placing it on the mattress between them. “Don’t tell Victor okay? I don’t think he saw that part.”

“Are you kidding? Victor will fall to his knees imagining that and-” Yuri started with a grin.

“Don’t finish that thought,” Yuuri cut him off and buried his face in the pillow.

Yuri snorted and waited for Yuuri to resurface, looking tired and guilty.

“It’ll feel better in a few days,” Yuri said, reaching out and tucking his hand under the curl of Yuuri’s fingers. “I know from experience.”

Yuri didn’t remember falling asleep, but the next time he opened his eyes it was morning. Yuuri was still sound asleep across from him, and his hand was warm clasped beneath bruised knuckles.

“He’s cute when he sleeps, right?”

Yuri jumped, yanking his hand back and looking up at Victor leaning over the back of the couch with a cup of coffee. He looked awfully smug, but he only had eyes for Yuuri.

“I wasn’t expecting his cute face, but the first time I saw him sleep I couldn’t look away. He’s so relaxed,” Victor sighed quietly and took a sip of coffee. “It’s a secret though.”

“Yeah whatever, I won’t tell,“ Yuri said. “If you think he’s cute now you should hear about who he punched in the-“

“Nooooo,” Yuuri groaned sleepily from next to him, blindly reaching out with his eyes closed but unable to reach Yuri without moving closer. “That was a secret.”

“Yuuri!” Victor gasped, looking deeply interested. “Did you really?”

“I told you he’d like hearing it,” Yuri said, smug, and relaxed back into bed listening to the two of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much everyone for reading, leaving kudos and commenting! It all meant a lot to me and makes me smile whenever I log in ^^


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